


storms and sunshine

by cupidty11



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arthur-centric, Canon Era, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic Revealed, MerMay, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Mermaid Merlin, Pre-Slash, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Worried Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), merlin is a mer-person but like....he's only a merperson in like a few paragraphs of this lol, there is very little plot and no porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24383623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupidty11/pseuds/cupidty11
Summary: Merlin and Arthur save each other. Again. Oh and also, Merlin is a merman. Surprise!In which, Camelot is located much closer to the sea and the author fails at boat terminology which is unfortunate when a good chunk of the story takes place on a ship. But, there is plenty of boys staring into each other's eyes and flirting...so...
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 175





	storms and sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> Baby's first magic reveal~  
> This....was supposed to be a drabble. It isn't. I spent 2 weeks on it....I THINK I like it?? I THINK?? I'm just a sucker for Mer!lin (lol) and Arthur being a huge softy. This fic is a bit of a mess but oh well. It's done now. I wash my hands of it. Hope you enjoy! Feel free to leave me comments and polite critique! I want to get better at writing them. I adore this show and I've only read thousands of Merthur fics.

Icy wind slashed at his face and the rain fell like stones against his skull as he tried to get his bearings on the isolated beach.

Even as confusion and pain took up most of his faculties, Arthur was stumbling blindly to his feet and calling out, “Merlin!” He managed a few steps before the sand pulled at his feet, sending him back to his knees.Or perhaps it was the pain in his spine that did it. He curled his fingers into the wet granules, trying to breathe, to remain calm. After spitting out more water, he gurgled as loud as he could,“Merlin!”

Panic was a living thing in his chest. He had to find Merlin.

But, there was nothing. No response. No annoyingly familiar voice yelling back with just as much, if not more, panic. Just the crashing waves and pounding rain. For a moment he watched the drops make divots in the sand. With a harsh groan he let his aching head rest on the beach, and struggled to recall how he’d ended up here.

* * *

The king and his normal retinue were beginning their journey across the Great Seas of Meredoc, to the kingdom of Laigin with the goal of securing a much needed trade agreement.They’d been aboard a newly owned Camelotian vessel, _The Serendipity_. With the speed of their ship and the weather conditions it would be a short journey. The length of two days, three at most.

They’d begun with high spirits, sailors and knights alike singing sea shanties and enjoying the bright salty air. Arthur was no stranger to ships, with Camelot so near various bodies of water. But, he was admittedly not a sailor. He did his best to observe, asking questions of the more seasoned veterans of the sea.

Merlin, of course, had been acting strange. Stranger than usual, anyway. The younger man seemed suddenly terrified of the ocean. He had never before showed a fear of water. Let _alone_ the sea. Arthur had spied Merlin’s shell collection on his bedside table. And when there was a patrol that would take the knights near the coast, Merlin would jump to come along. He’d spend the whole time staring out across the ocean’s waves with eyes full of something Arthur had struggled to catalog for a long time. Now, he thought it might be longing.

But, suddenly now that they were aboard a ship, the servant was behaving not unlike a nervous stoat. Twitching at sudden movements and acting, in turns, much too serious or overly,foolishly jovial. Not to mention the way he kept far away from the gunwale despite the inevitable teasing he received. As always, the servant took it all with a wide grin and witty comebacks. It distracted most everyone from his fear. Except Arthur could not help but notice where it lingered. Especially in the corners of his eyes.

Only half a day had passed before things took a turn for the worst. Instead of the clear, windy weather they’d been promised, dark rain clouds began to gather; a portent along the ocean horizon. The captain of _The Serendipity_ assured him that a storm was no match for his ship and crew. Still, a seed of dread had been planted in Arthur’s heart. Even Merlin’s attempt at walking around, seemingly unable to stand up straight with his lack of sea-legs, was not enough to distract him.

Less than an hour passed before they spotted a strange ship. It’s sails were plain with no insignia, colored the same grey as the gathering clouds. As they grew closer together the other ship made no effort to respond to their waving flags of peace and Arthur’s dread grew. But, _The Serendipity_ held steady, confident in their abilities to confront whatever may come up against them.

The ship grew closer and closer, looming on them and nearly circling like prey. Arthur’s instincts recognized the tactic and he knew there would be battle. Drops fell from the sky, darkening the wood and electrifying the air. He held his hand out to his servant. Merlin fumbled with the spyglass, cursing a bit as he nearly fell over crossing to his king. Arthur took the cursed thing before shoving it to his eye, ready to begin strategizing.

Through the miracle glass he could see so much; the enemy’s clothing, their rugged dirty faces, the glimmer of sharply honed iron. Mere thieves? Or Saxons? He saw so much more than he swore he’d ever been able to see from this thing.The telescope was old, his father’s in fact and his father’s before him. But, it had seen better times. Just last Summer he’d dropped it from an upsettingly tall height. For the reminder of his mistake, Arthur despised using it. He loathed even more the idea of getting a new one. But, now-- He pulled the telescope away to look at the lens. “There used to be a crack here.”

The servant blinked, “Um, are you sure?”

Arthur squinted, first at the crack-less spyglass lens and then at Merlin.

Merlin shrugged, looked away at their approaching enemies. “I fixed it.”

“You...fixed it?” The servant shrugged again.“You, _you_ fixed it?”

Merlin rewarded him with a familiar glare that never served to make his traitorous heart flip. “Don’t you have a Battle to plan, my lord?”

Arthur’s thoughts switched tracks immediately. Even as he gave Merlin a look that said ‘we’re not done here’, he turned to the captain, wanting to know his men’s strengths and vulnerabilities. All his knights gathered around them, listening intently. But, then _everyone’s_ eyes were on their king as he tried to ensure their victory.

Merlin didn’t once move from his side, all forced joviality falling from his face. It left him stoic and grim, with eyes that betrayed his fear. Of what, Arthur still didn’t know. The enemy? The sea? Death? Arthur held, in return, onto the back of Merlin’s tunic. Keeping him steady. Keeping him close.

The ones who were not fighters were being pushed below deck, though this was the case for only a handful of men who were basically still boys and the women that had no combat practice. Merlin, Arthur knew, would not be one of them. If Arthur made him, he would turn around to find the servant watching the fight behind a barrel or something else equally as ridiculous.

“Merlin.” He called to the younger man who stiffened and turned, glaring and ready for an argument.

“I’m not hiding, Arthur.” Then Merlin watched, baffled as Arthur undid the dagger sheath from around his waist. Said dagger had once been a gift from Morgana for Arthur’s 16th birthday. Now, he stepped closer to slip the leather sheath around Merlin’s slim hips. Neither reacted outwardly to the other’s body heat, but both felt it keenly. With a hard swallow, Arthur stepped back. Merlin’s lips parted as he lightly touched the dagger’s hilt. The iron was largely practical, with only the most subtle dragon engravings on the blade.

Their eyes met for a moment. One that dragged on as they often did into many moments. Just the two of them looking into each other’s souls as the sea shook them and danger approached. Merlin’s lips curled into a soft smile. And Arthur couldn’t help but return it, like a chemical reaction.

“Don’t be an idiot.”

Merlin snorted, and gave his biggest, most annoying grin. “Me?” The king roughly ruffled his servant’s hair, knowing it was an excuse to get his hands on the man before him.

They were standing side by side when the enemy boarded them with a familiar battle cry. It sealed Arthur’s hypothesis of them being Saxons. They had the upper hand; their surprise attack, their familiarity with the sea. Not to mention Saxons were fierce warriors, a worthy challenge. Arthur had confidence in his men, unable to truly believe they would not come out of this victorious. The rush and tide of battle separated them.

There was something about being so far from Camelot’s land that made the battle feel all the more desperate. He barked orders, swung his sword and cut down his enemies. A blur of bloodshed that came to him as easy as riding a horse. Arthur jumped from man to man. When one of his own seemed to falter or called out for aid, he rushed to them. When an enemy seemed weak or weary and unwilling to lay down his arms, Arthur was there to dispatch them. Blood pooled along the deck, washed away by the rain as it began to fall quicker and quicker, a crescendo of heavy drum beats. The Saxons were falling quickly, of which they seemed to realize for they began to attack with greater brutality.

Arthur ran his sword through his enemy, a brutal but quick final execution. When no man filled his place, the king took a moment to catch his breath. Automatically, he searched for unruly black hair, pale skin and red faded neckerchief. Arthur found him, being backed up against the ship’s edge, the sea an ominous backdrop. The fool’s hand was out like he could stop the approaching warrior with his outspread fingers. The Saxon seemed surprisingly undeterred, looking almost rabid with rage. Luckily, the Saxon seemed to have lost his sword at some point. Merlin’s right eye was already turning black, swelling shut. His nose was bleeding heavily from the Saxon's previous assault.

Arthur shouted, “To Merlin!” Nearly every knight began to search for the king’s manservant, eager to protect. The servant’s eyes snapped to his King, his outstretched fingers curled into a fist. The Saxon seemed not to care, quickly closing the distance between them despite Merlin clumsily throwing the same fist. The beast of a man grabbed his prey around the waist and began to lift him.

Fear stopped Arthur’s heart and he ran, fighting his body’s weakness to the shifting tides, cutting through any who tried to slow him. Merlin’s shout was nearly drowned by the sound of fighting and the ocean’s roar. The younger man flailed in the enemy’s grip. The Saxon yelled in turn, though it became obvious why that was. The dagger he’d given Merlin was embedded in the enemy’s back, Merlin’s final attempt at fighting back. It wasn’t enough to stop the inevitable.

Arthur felt it in his chest as the servant was thrown overboard, arm still outstretched towards his king. The Saxon stumbled backwards, scrambling for the knife in his back. Arthur shoved him aside, pulling the dagger out as he went, looking over the edge of the ship into the deadly abyss. He trusted his knights to take care of this man that had harmed Merlin. Through the furious foam and unsettled waves, he thought he saw a flash of red; Merlin’s neckerchief.

Arthur’s chest heaved, his body shook with a primal terror the likes of which he’d felt only a handful of times. He didn’t hesitate even a second more. He didn’t stop to think about his role as a king, about if it was a good idea, about the danger of the sea. Ignoring the frantic calling of his name by his knights, Arthur took one last big gulp of air before he dived overboard into the increasingly violent waves.

Hitting the water itself was awful. It knocked the breath from him, immediately soaked all warmth until he felt pins and needles.The waves battered his body like hundreds of punches from every direction. Arthur tried to swim, to search with outstretched arms for Merlin. But it felt impossible to do anything other than try and keep his head above water. Never had he felt so powerless, so utterly at the mercy of fate. All of his strength and cunning meant nothing in the face of the water’s overwhelming power.

“Merlin!” Arthur shouted between gulps of stolen air, and he thought he heard someone call back, “Arthur!”

He slammed into something solid that knocked the breath and sense from him. The rough surface of it scraped his skin raw. The tide pushed him against it, pinned without air. Black spots danced over his vision. Despite the chaos, he was able to recognize that this might be his demise. His hands scrambled, nails tearing as he fought for life. His lungs screamed for air and he thought of Merlin’s face. Thought of the stories that might be told of the king that jumped overboard into dangerous waters for his servant. None of them would know the truth. That he’d gone because it was either find Merlin and bring him back to safety or die alongside him with the ocean as their tomb.

Arthur began to go limp, losing his battle with the force of the sea. Something slipped around him, strong across his chest and waist. It pulled him up towards the surface. Beneath him he thought he saw a flash something blue and scaley before he fell into darkness. 

* * *

Then Arthur had woken up on this beach. Alone, full of pain and fear in equal measure. Arthur clutched his head and tried to stand again. He felt like useless weight, waterlogged and woozy.

“Merlin!” He shouted, voice rough from all the coughing. Fear had him trembling more than the cold. The idea of having to live without him, of searching for days...hoping to find the servant sitting on the beach annoyed and waiting for them. Or else discovering his bloated, blue corpse. Arthur nearly vomited, trying to breathe, to remain calm.

Suddenly he spotted it, a trail of concave sand where something heavy had dragged itself along the beach. He followed the trail with his eyes until he saw a pale, bruised, familiar face. Arthur’s heart leaped, giving him the strength to finally stand and stumble his way to his friend.

He nearly fell over again when he finally registered what he was looking at.

From the tattered and torn remains of the servant’s tunic to what should have been his boots was instead a long, blue...tail. Distantly he noted that there were scales. Scales of many azure shades, which seemed to repel the rain. The tail fins themselves seemed nearly iridescent. Merlin had obviously dragged himself, crawling with his hands digging into the sand before losing strength and consciousness. His head was turned towards Arthur and fingers curled near his face.

Shock held the king immobile for a few moments. But, he’d been training his whole life to continue on despite any obstacle. So, he stumbled the rest of the way to Merlin’s side and dropped like a sack of rocks to his knees. With shaky hands he clutched the servant’s wrist, pressing into the skin and waited...waited with his heart pounding out a rhythm of terror. There! A weak, thready but undoubtedly there, pulse!

Relief weakened Arthur further, coursing through him without permission until he sagged, trembling all over. He ignored the sound that escaped his lips, suspiciously sob like when he saw Merlin’s body move gently up and down with life. Now that he knew the man was alive, all his attention went to cataloging this sudden change.

Merlin’s face was slightly turned and he could spy strange skin flaps along his pale neck, that looked suspiciously gill like. Merlin’s hands were covered in sand where he’d dragged himself along the beach, presumably trying to get away from the water, from Arthur. His slightly curled fingers had a pale, also near iridescent webbing between them. Arthur swallowed and shivered. Lightning flashed and it briefly illuminated what he hadn’t noticed before; even though the vast majority of Merlin’s....tail was shades of dark blue, there was also the occasional golden scale.

This was...insanity. It had to be. There was no way this was happening. Arthur clutched again at his head, for it ached. He hoped he wasn’t bleeding anywhere. He hadn’t taken the time to check. If he could trust his eyes then Merlin was a...mermaid? Merman? Siren? Something he’d heard of in old stories told along the docks.That old sailors he’d spoken to had sworn they’d seen. The creatures that were carved into older sections of the castle, etched in stone, though most had been filed away or painted over.

For Mermaids were creatures of magic and magic was outlawed in Camelot. In the vaults, he’d seen their tail fins. Hundreds of them, cut from the rest of the tail, to be shown off like a trophy, then either killed or dumped back into the merciless sea to die slowly. Arthur felt the urge to vomit again. He’d always thought of them like any other creature. Animalistic in nature, fickle and dangerous as the sea. His eyes flickered back to Merlin who was none of these things. But, what he was seeing could not be denied.

Hesitantly, he reached out a single finger, ignoring how it shook, and pressed it against blue scales. Nothing happened. Merlin didn’t even twitch. Arthur merely noted the texture, the temperature, before pulling away. Merlin was a creature of magic. However he’d come to be this way, there was no denying the magical nature of this transformation. Had he been cursed or...or had he been this way all along?

The question was the final crack in a failing dam, the truth washing over him, threatening to flood him, drown him. A thousand mysteries suddenly solved, so many questions finally answered. And a thousand more questions forming. Everything was tilted, off, and he was suddenly living in a whole new reality. Arthur wretched and choked, spitting up sea water and whatever he’d eaten earlier. The rain helped hide any tears that he might have shed.

Brokenly, he watched his servant’s eyes flutter. Knew he’d awaken soon. Arthur didn’t know what to feel, what to think. He felt frozen between fight and flight because this was no real enemy but a friend and the only thing he felt he was up against was a phantom version of what Camelot had been and what it could be.

The last few years had been interesting. They’d made peace with the druids, even going so far as to sign official treaties with any specific tribes that came forward. Arthur had begun to search for wisdom within his fellow monarchs who did not criminalize magic, learning that their lands had _not_ fallen into corruption or constant war with itself like he'd been taught to fear. Magic was instead used for healing, farming, sewing, smithing...and yes, was a priceless advantage in battle. He had spent hours asking wary questions. Then even more hours sitting in front of his fireplace and thinking, thinking, thinking of pyres and paranoia. His father’s voice in his mind, saying the same thing over and over again, _‘magic is evil, magic must be destroyed, magic corrupts even the greatest of men_ ’...and Merlin was the greatest man Arthur had ever known.

Merlin was...his manservant. His friend. His confidante. Sometimes like the brother he’d never had. Other times, his most trusted advisor. Someone whose smile and laughter made everything brighter. The first face he saw every morning and the last before sleep. And when that routine was disrupted everything felt wrong. Merlin was someone he couldn’t imagine life without. Even in his wildest fantasies, Merlin was there.

Perhaps, especially in his wildest ones.

Merlin was loyal to a fault, insolent and clumsy. Arthur knew he could trust Merlin with everything and anything. Be it the kingdom or his heart. Perhaps it was naive of him, foolish but he’d thought the sentiment was returned. Instead, it seemed he’d been alone all along.

Arthur’s back continued to ache, his head throbbed. But,the emotional pain easily outweighed the physical. Betrayal and despair were not unfamiliar emotions. For Arthur easily gave his trust and tried to earn it back from others which had not always gone well. When had he failed with Merlin? What could he have done to avoid this agony? He waited for the anger to come, fueled by the pain. Almost looked forward to the heat in his blood it would bring. And he waited, sitting next to his best friend, just trying to breathe. Merlin’s fingers twitched. And he waited, wondering if the anger would ever come.

Arthur watched the (mer)man shift slightly, and an eye flicker, eyelashes stuck together from the rain. Distantly, he wondered what they look like when saturated with golden magic. No rage or fear consumed him at the thought. Maybe a bit of apprehension, curiosity. Nothing like what used to hold his heart in its poisonous grip at even the mention of magic.

Merlin groaned faintly, struggling to push himself, to sit up. His eyes finally were able to open, glassy and their familiar blue, scanning the area, probably looking for his king. Except he was right here. Merlin froze. The king watched the other man’s face as it flickered rapidly through emotions and masks. The shock turned into some kind of half-hearted attempt at innocence before it was abandoned for something that looked an awful lot like fear. “A-Arthur?” Merlin whispered, barely audible over the rain.

When Arthur opened his mouth, nothing came out. He had no idea what to say, what to do. He was frozen,uncertain and broken. And alone. So he just shut his mouth again and shoved to his feet ignoring how lightheaded he felt. He wanted to be anywhere else but here. Needed to put space between them so he could think. He had to think.

Except Merlin jerked back, arms tensed like he was ready to drag himself further away. Like he was waiting for an attack. Expected one.

The sight was a blow to the gut and a knock upside the head as Arthur suddenly understood. Merlin was _afraid_. The bravest man he'd ever known brought low by his fear. Merlin has possibly _always_ been afraid. _Of course, of course_. Not just of Arthur, of The Crown, but of being _seen_ , being _known_. This secret he’d held, for who knows how long, eating him up inside. Lies on top of lies until he probably didn’t know the truth himself. Going to sleep and waking up every day and knowing that his secret could easily mean death...or worse.That his loved ones were in danger because of the magic in his blood.

It suddenly all made sense. This man who had confused him, bemused him for years suddenly unraveling before him. The betrayal faded and the anger never came. Instead, he felt like the luckiest clotpole in the world, because he had thought he had a guardian angel, legendary streaks of good fortune. But, it was better. It was Merlin, all along.

Merlin was talking now, words coming a mile a minute, voice shaking with emotion. “I’m sorry, Sire. I'm so sorry! I have magic. I am magic. I-I’ve always been this way.” He frantically gestured at his tail, his body, his being. “B-But you don’t need to worry! I’d never, never betray you! I use it for you. Only for you, Arthur. My king...” Merlin’s head bowed. In deference, in obedience, fear? None of it was acceptable.

Arthur looked at him for a few moments, heart aching. Then crumbled back to his knees next to Merlin and grabbed his hand where it was curled into the sand. His webbed, slightly scaled hand. He cradled it between his own. It was cold. Merlin’s hands were always cold. Summer, Fall, Winter, Spring; the servant’s cold fingers awoke Arthur every morning. Shook his shoulder, smacked his bare back, shoved food into his still snoring mouth. Arthur had considered getting him a nice pair of gloves a hundred times but always hesitated lest he be accused of favoritism. He _did_ have a favorite, that much was obvious to anyone with eyes. He’d just been hesitant to advertise it with gifts.

Arthur decided at that moment that he was definitely going to get Merlin the best pair of gloves he could find when they returned home.

“A-Arthur?” Merlin asked again, voice barely louder than a whisper,sounding slightly hysterical.

Arthur swallowed back tears. “Tell me, Merlin...how many times have you saved my life?”

Merlin’s eyes glimmered brightly, Arthur knew because he was looking into them. “I...I lost count.” The rain had slowed to a light sprinkle.

“I’m sorry.” Arthur replied simply, squeezing that hand and trying to put as much honestly and feeling into it as possible. Sorry for the fear his friend must have felt every day. Sorry for being someone that Merlin felt he couldn’t tell. Sorry for not seeing what was right before his eyes.

Merlin’s eyes finally overflowed with tears, though with his one free wrist he tried to wipe them away. His voice came out choked. “I’m sorry, too.” Sorry for the lying. Sorry for the barrier between them. Sorry for being too afraid to speak up. Merlin left his wrist there, but it did nearly nothing to disguise the fat tears running down his cheeks or way his shoulders jerked with suppressed sobs.

Arthur let him hide his tears. But he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Merlin’s, dark and blond hair sticking together. Instead of calming his friend, it seemed to only make him cry harder. The younger man's body curled forward, pressing his forehead harder against Arthur’s and gripping his hand right back. The sun began to return, peeking through the dark grey clouds. Arthur held his friend, as the rain vanished completely and Merlin seemed to weep out years of pain. If tears ran down Arthur’s face too, they were soon dried by the sun as it quickly warmed the beach.

Merlin’s breath hitched with a gasp and he let out a soft whimper. Arthur looked up only to see miles of pale naked leg instead of the blue scales. His legs were scattered with dark hair, curling in the sun. Merlin cleared his throat and tugged the ragged edge of his blue tunic down further over his crotch. Arthur tore his gaze away from where he could almost see the shape of him through the wet, thin fabric.

“So, you...have a tail...”

Merlin choked, sitting up straight, face regaining some quite flattering color. “A bit.”

Arthur blinked incredulously. “That was definitely not ‘a bit’ of tail, Merlin! It was quite a lot of tail! So much tail we might as well start calling you Marlin instead!”

It was Merlin’s turn to look incredulous, cheeks a strawberry red. Then he started laughing, a shoulder shaking laugh that could probably be heard for a hundred paces all around. Arthur didn’t notice how he was grinning until Merlin looked back at him, laughter turning to giggles and then to a matching grin. Which as they looked at each other, faded into a sweet smile, the one that Arthur saw over and over again in his dreams. It was the one that he gave Arthur in his darkest moments, the one that pulled him from the brink of despair time and time again. It was warm and flowing with devotion. Arthur had wondered over and over if that devotion he saw was true, how deep it went. Now, looking into Merlin’s eyes, he felt the last of his doubt wash away.

“There is so much I want to tell you...” Merlin murmured, laying his hand back over Arthur’s. The sun was fully out, already drying their clothes, stealing the chill away. Over Merlin’s shoulder, he saw a ship approaching. Their ship. Even from here he could see the red capes and sails that declared Camelot. Arthur looked down at their hands.

“Like what?” Voice hoarse and overly deep.

Merlin kept smiling but his eyes were still bright, full of worry. “Everything. Growing up hearing prophecies from the sea’s waves..., Morgana, Agravaine, the dragon, my father, all the people I’ve killed and saved, and...and my magic....” Merlin swallowed hard, looked down at their hands as if for bravery. “Both this” he gestured with a shaky hand to his bare legs, “and what I’ve been able to do since I was born. You don’t know the full extent of it.” The doubt made Merlin tremble and Arthur huffed. Pulled him closer, until the younger man was nearly in his lap.

“And I can’t wait to hear all about it, MER-lin.” He ruffled the manservant’s damp hair until it stuck up in wild angles. Just the sight sent a spike of good cheer through him. “But, not until we’re back home and in dry clothes.” He climbed to his feet with only a bit of effort, holding a hand out for Merlin who was looking at him with concern.

“Did you hit your head?” The servant questioned, letting himself be pulled upward.

Arthur shrugged, “Slammed into a rock. But, I’m awake and fine, Merlin.” Instead of looking reassured, the worry-wart only looked more concerned, already reaching out to poke and prod with a physician’s eye. Arthur grabbed his wrists, running a thumb over a tendon. “I am FINE. You lost your boots?”

In sync they looked down at Merlin’s pale toes digging into the damp sand. The servant sighed heavily. “I wouldn’t have. I wasn’t going to transform. I was fighting it...but then I saw you.” Arthur looked up into Merlin’s face. His cheeks were turning pink but his tone was resolute. Arthur could imagine it. Merlin fighting to keep his human form, to stay afloat. Then spying Arthur as he jumped from the ship after him. The overwhelming panic that overtook everything else, because Arthur had felt it too. A tail sprouting and destroying the already cheap fabric and material, as Merlin swam to his king and saved them both. Again. Now, his servant stood naked but for his thin tunic that barely brushed mid thigh. But, he was trying not to look at that. And failing a bit.

Arthur shrugged out from his sodden jacket and wrapped it around Merlin who looked back up at him so quickly, his neck cracked. “What are you doing?”

The king grinned at him, lifting an arm to wave at the approaching vessel. He saw a few of his men wave back. “Protecting your dignity.”

Merlin scoffed but shoved his arms through the sleeves. Arthur watched him, feeling a keen satisfaction at how the younger man looked in the familiar coat though it was slightly too big for him. It was almost enough to draw his gaze away from the pale expanse of legs. Merlin would need new boots and pants, of course to go with his gloves. Maybe a cloak to match. He touched the dagger at his belt, which had surprisingly withstood the ocean’s turmoil. Perhaps, he’d give it back to him once they were back home. Maybe he'd commission a whole new set of throwing knives. Merlin had long thin fingers that would take to knives and perhaps even archery much better than swordplay. The fool may have magic but, it never hurt to know how to defend your self the good ol' fashioned way. 

Merlin was waving back at the men, grinning brightly at the figure who jumped up and down. Probably Gwaine. Once they were close enough a lifeboat was lowered over the edge of _The Serendipity_ , and began to be rowed to their spot on the beach. Even from here Arthur could make out Percival’s powerful frame pushing and pulling the oars. 

He watched Merlin bite his lip as they walked to meet it. “What is it?”

Merlin glanced at him, then back at the boat which was nearing the limit of where it could reach the shore without hitting land. “The water...usually I wouldn’t worry about...” The younger man trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

Arthur felt that he understood. “Transforming?”

Merlin nodded stiffly. “But, I’ve used up so much energy...I don’t know if I could stay...human.”

The king elbowed him in the side. Merlin jumped and then looked unsure if he should be offended or confused. Instead of answering, Arthur knelt in the sand, arms behind him. “Come on then.”

Merlin looked at him blankly. “What?”

“Get on my back, you brat.”

“You’re...seriously going to give me a-a-?” The undignified word 'piggyback ride' hung in the salty air. 

Arthur sighed explosively. “Shut up and get on.”

With only mild unease, Merlin clambered onto Arthur’s back who immediately hooked his big hands under his calves to balance them. It was astoundingly even more impossible to ignore Merlin’s nakedness like this. What with his flesh actually in Arthur’s hands, his body pressed up against his back. Arthur was a gentleman though, a knight of the realm and he forced himself to push it to the side. Later.

Before they got in hearing range of Percy, Arthur squeezed the well built leg muscle under his hands. “One day soon you will not need to worry about hiding.”

Merlin said nothing only leaned his chest further against his king’s back, arms curling with careful reverence around Arthur’s neck and his own head laying on top of his king’s.

The water was lapping at his knees when the knight called out to them, “Everyone alright, sire?”

“Only bruised, Sir Percival. Merlin here had a little fainting spell from the fear.” Merlin dared to smack his shoulder, apparently unconcerned that he would be dropped, as Arthur waded deeper. “Help him aboard, would you?” Percival was a good knight and he didn't ask about the piggyback ride or Merlin's nakedness. The giant of a man merely nodded with a faint grin. Arthur backed up to the boat and Percival pulled his servant up and in by his armpits.

The King turned around to see Merlin holding his hand out to help _him_ in. A light breeze stirred the inky black locks, strawberry red in his cheeks, unending devotion in those eyes, looking somehow both ridiculous and so utterly gorgeous it made his heart leap. Once he would have joked about Merlin lacking the strength to help him up. But, now...now he somehow knew his amazing, magical manservant could do it. Could do anything. 

Arthur took his chilly hand and was pulled out of the sea and into Merlin’s arms. 


End file.
